


A Chocolate Cake

by SansyFresh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, BBQHoney - Freeform, Broken Bones, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, LV Issues, M/M, Mild Fluff, QP Edgepuff, Queerplatonic relationship, broken trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-18 22:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20646662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Stretch shows up at their door with a broken arm and a broken heart. Papyrus is sure they can help with both.





	1. A Broken Trust

**Author's Note:**

> happy anniversary guys ^^ have a new fic lol
> 
> enjoy :D

Papyrus had just set out the tray of chips and dip, Edge seated on the couch looking through Netflix to find their show for the night, when the slightly staggered banging came on the door. Papyrus glanced up, sockets wide as he listened for it to come again, Edge hurrying off the couch when it did. The locks were undone with a vehemence, the ragged breathing on the other side of the heavy wooden door coming through all the more clear when it opened, revealing a sobbing Stretch.

Papyrus whimpered, gathering the weeping skeleton into his arms and leading him inside as Edge checked outside, just to make sure no one had followed him there. 

“Stretch, darling, what happened? Who hurt you?”

Edge turned sharply at the words, finding Papyrus gingerly peeling Stretch out of a rain soaked hoody, though that wasn’t the only liquid seeping into the fabric. The deep red marrow was shocking against the garish orange, the injury becoming clear as Stretch winced when the right arm was jostled as it came out of the sleeve. 

There was no answer from Stretch, his voice broken as he near wailed into Papyrus’ chest. Whatever had happened had broken more than his arm.

Papyrus was gentle as he soothed Stretch, taking his broken, near shattered humerus and healing it enough that it wouldn’t hurt him much, anymore. Edge watched, standing just at the side of the couch. Stretch was curled in Papyrus’ arms, still near inconsolable. 

It took nearly an hour to calm him down enough to get a cup of water in him, Stretch accepting a napkin to wipe his face with. 

“Thanks…” he mumbled, eyelights locked on the floor in clear embarrassment that he’d broken down in front of them. They gave each other a look, trying not to roll their eyes. 

“You’re very welcome, Stretch. Now, please-”

“Who hurt you?” Edge cut in, done waiting around when whoever hurt Stretch could be hanging around, waiting for him to leave, or worse, for them to fall asleep. No, he needed to know who it was, so he could take care of it quickly and efficiently. 

Papyrus gave him a look, one that he clearly did not deserve, but Stretch just curled into himself further.

“If I tell you… will you promise not to kill them?” The quiet request came, Edge and Papyrus again sharing a look before Edge nodded.

“We will not do anything you don’t want us to do.” Papyrus said firmly, gathering Stretch close to his chest and letting an intent of safety flow through the room. Stretch relaxed into it, sockets fluttering shut as he finally answered. 

“Slim... He’s… he was almost _feral_, I don’t…” The tears were returning, likely from remembering whatever had been wrong with Slim. If either of them had to guess, it was that Slim’s slightly too high LV had been set off by something, possibly something small, since Stretch was not maimed or worse. 

Edge stepped over to the door, slinging his jacket on and slipping into his boots before returning to the couch and leaving a small peck on the top of Stretch’s skull, Stretch looking up at him plaintively. 

“I will take care of him. I’ll bring him back to you.” Edge promised, and even if his promises didn’t hold the weight of a Sans’, he would keep this one. With a swift set of steps he was out the door and gone, Papyrus sighing as he relocked the door with magic. Edge would ask later if he had, and honestly he didn’t want the headache of the fit Edge would throw if he hadn’t.

“Alright, come on dear, it’s time to eat something.” Papyrus said, scooping Stretch up and placing him upright on the couch. “I’m going to go make some sandwiches, but please use the snacks while you wait, alright?” And with that he’d sped into the kitchen, Stretch watching him go with wide sockets.

Papyrus rifled through the fridge for premium sandwich toppings as he considered just what kind of trouble Stretch had gotten himself into. Stretch was… softer than he liked to admit, and Slim was from the roughest of their worlds. Edge had warned Papyrus before even attempting to move in that his LV was high, high enough that if something set it off, he’d likely hurt him. 

Papyrus had returned the sentiment with facts, that not only did he know how to take care of himself, he also had training regarding what to do if a monster went wild with LV lust. Edge had agreed, and they’d been living together ever since.

He had… not an idea as to what kind of conversation Stretch and Slim had had about this kind of situation, but Papyrus hoped it had been a lengthy one. 

Carrying the sandwiches back out to the living room, Papyrus made Stretch eat two of them, the third being nibbled on as they turned the tv to the playstation, Stretch picking a game to play while Papyrus gave advice in the background. Papyrus diligently checked his phone every 15 minutes, Stretch giving him a side glance filled with hope every time he did it. 

Soon enough it was long past time for bed, Papyrus insisting Stretch take his bed for the few hours he’d be able to sleep, Stretch putting up only a token fight before he finally trudged off to take a shower, Papyrus laying him out a pair of clothing to sleep in. 

As Papyrus shut the door to the bedroom, Stretch safely in bed, nearly already asleep, he didn’t react as his phone buzzed in its pocket. Walking gently back downstairs, he didn’t check it until he was seated on the couch, fingers shaking lightly as he clicked open the messages. 

**Edgy Man**: _I’ve got him. He’s safe, don’t let Stretch come home._

Papyrus let a huff of air out through his teeth. Well. At least they were safe.


	2. Do you deserve to be alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops lol i keep meaning to write and then not doing it XD anyways, have this chapter :D
> 
> enjoy ^^

The drive to Slim and Stretch’s house took nearly half an hour, the entire time spent with Edge praying to whatever stars would listen that Slim was still at home and hadn’t… well. That he hadn’t done anything further to ruin this whole situation. 

Having as much LV as he did, Slim had to have known that something like this was coming. The symptoms were simple, steady and always easy to predict. If this had completely caught Stretch by surprise, it was highly likely that the idiots hadn’t discussed Slim’s LV past the obligatory “I love you anyway, baby dear”. It made Edge’s own LV burn, thinking of their stupidity in such a serious situation. 

Stretch had actually been hurt because they hadn’t sat down and actually talked about what might and should happen if Slim was to fall into a LV haze. Of course they hadn’t, the lazy asses.

As he pulled into the driveway of Stretch and Slim’s little squat house, he scowled at the dark windows. There was no telling what kind of situation he was walking into, other than that Slim was most certainly not himself at the moment. Steeling himself before he even stepped out of the car, he ignored the way the rain spattered on the top of his skull as he got out, stepping purposefully to the house. 

The door was still locked, something he was certain was some last ditch effort to keep Stretch away. It was a token effort at best, seeing as how they were able to teleport, but Edge had his own ways of getting into places he wasn’t welcome.

With a swift, well placed kick the door was open and the smell of marrow hit his nose, Edge’s face scrunching as he began scouring each room to find the source of the smell. When he found it… well, he couldn’t say he was entirely surprised. 

Slim was sitting in the corner of their bedroom, ulna’s broken and scratches bleeding from nearly every exposed bone. Slim had already had a bit of a self destructive tendency, but while in a haze… Edge supposed they could clean and heal it up nicely once he was sure Slim wasn’t still  _ in  _ the haze. 

Stepping cautiously forward, Edge held up his hands. “Slim? Can you hear me?”

Amber eyelights snapped up, locked onto his own, and before he had time to blink there was a warm body grappling with his own. He fought, carefully even as Slim clawed and bite and tried to snap his own bones with sheer force of will. Mindful of his numerous wounds, Edge finally caught him in a hold, one that would mean putting force on his broken arms if he was to move around too harshly. 

It didn’t take long for Slim to slowly calm down, his wild eyelights fading back into their usual pips. It took a bit longer for him to realize who was holding him, only for Slim to turn in his hold and press to his chest, sobbing. 

The coming down from a haze was always the worst, the vague memories of what you’d done, the horrific nightmare moments that had been imagined playing through your mind. The overwhelming burn of LV that left your bones feeling scoured and raw.

Edge held him through it, caressing his back and carefully positioning him to a more comfortable place in his lap. Slim was taller, which made it a bit awkward, but the skeleton was plenty able to curl up into a near ball.

After the sobs had calmed, Edge leaning back against the wall after texting Papyrus and Stretch, Slim finally asked the golden question.

“Is Stretch okay?” His voice was hoarse, from screaming or crying Edge wasn’t sure which. 

He decided to go with the truth, no matter how much it might throw Slim back into a tailspin. He deserved to know how badly he’d fucked up. “You broke his arm.”

He left the broken trust unsaid. Slim would, and apparently  _ did  _ catch the subtext, as the tears began falling again. Edge held him close as he began to thrash and scream once more, deciding to text Papyrus again once Slim had fallen asleep.

Neither of these idiots deserved to be alone.


	3. Won't you come my way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo another update, how sweet is that :D
> 
> warnings for this one are Stretch being in a Depression, mentions of medication, and mention of domestic abuse because of High LV (an LV spike)
> 
> enjoy :D

Papyrus stood at the precipice between the kitchen and the living room, the door held open in his hand. He couldn’t help the disappointed grimace on his face as he watched Stretch slowly turn over to face the couch, still asleep. 

That was pretty well all he’d done the past two days. Sleep and wake up long enough to eat and check his arm before he was back to sleeping. He had no interest in the gaming systems that Papyrus and Edge had bought for when their brothers were staying over, and really didn’t eat until Papyrus made him. 

He didn’t even really show any interest in conversing with Papyrus, who was home the majority of the time.

It was disheartening, seeing him falling into a funk like this. From the texts Edge was sending things weren’t any better over at the idiots’ house; if anything it sounded worse. Slim was still riding the edge of his LV, and Stretch was still dealing with a broken heart. Papyrus didn’t envy Edge’s position, but if he didn’t get Stretch up and doing something other than crying himself to dust on the couch, he was going to scream.

So, completely and utterly finished with the entire ordeal, Papyrus pulled out the big guns. Or, well, his phone, and dialed the one monster’s number who could get Stretch back up and off the damn couch. 

It only took an hour of waiting before the sound of Blue’s puttery little bug came up the road, parking in the driveway with a wheeze before there was a fierce knocking at the door. Stretch, predictably, did not stir, at least not until Papyrus opened said door and said loudly, “Well, hello Blue! It’s been such a long time!”

He decidedly ignored the sudden tensing of the body on the couch as Blue gazed at him with a fierceness in his eyes. “Hello Papyrus, I hear my brother is about?”

There was a definite flinch from the blanket pile, but Papyrus just nodded his head in that direction and let Blue at it. There was a thorough reaming out, Blue telling and reminding Stretch that this whole shit show could have been avoided if the two of them had just talked, then that Stretch was doing no one any good by being a layabout and not taking his meds. 

That had been a surprise to Papyrus, for certain, that Stretch was on any kind of medication, let alone mood stabilizers, but there it was, a tiny orange bottle in Blue’s hand that he handed over with great feeling. The two of them watched as Stretch swallowed a pill unreluctantly, chasing it with a long swig of cold water. 

Then Blue had pulled his baby brother into a hug and Papyrus had left them to it, ready to get some work done now that someone else was taking care of the situation, if only for a little while. They’d be fine, he was sure of it.

~.~

Stretch sat, sullen as Blue produced a giant pot of chili con carne with extra sour cream, his favorite. He pulled the heaping bowl Blue handed him close, nibbling at it while Blue stared unabashedly at the bruise on his arm. 

“Now are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to have to hear that from Papyrus as well?” 

Stretch tried not to flinch, but he knew he deserved the speech. He’d messed up, big time, and his brother was willing to listen. So, he explained. He explained that he and Slim had moved in together without ever really talking about the whole LV thing, that he’d trusted Slim to tell him if something had gone wrong, or if he was feeling off and needed him to leave or something. 

He’d trusted Slim to tell him a lot of things, but they never talked about it. Never about what Stretch was supposed to do when Slim came home in a rage, ranting about people at work and how he couldn’t drink anymore and that Stretch was a bad mate and all these awful things and great, now he was crying and couldn’t stop.

Blue let him lean on his shoulder, Stretch crying himself out for a good few minutes, before he asked The Question.

“Do you think, if he had been in his right mind, he would have hurt you like that?” 

Stretch pulled away, wiping at his sockets as he frowned. “No, he’s been nothing but gentle any other time. I know he loves me, and… and I love him too. We just… never talked about it.”

Blue was giving him that look, the one that said he was a complete idiot, but that because he was family, he was forgiven and loved. It was a bittersweet look. 

“I’m going to have a talk with Slim, if you don’t mind.” Blue finally said, and Stretch could only nod. It was fair, after all, and Blue would do what he wanted anyways. 

“Go for it. Just… maybe wait until his LV has calmed down fully.” Stretch whispered, unwilling to see his brother dusted because his mate didn’t have control over his functions. He could only hope that Edge could hold his own if Slim got violent again… the stars knew Stretch couldn’t.

“C’mon brother, eat some more, I know you haven’t been.” Blue said, and Stretch obeyed, gingerly eating the delicious food Blue had made for him because he knew he needed a pick me up, and tried not to think of all the times Slim had done something similar.

If the tears started falling again, Blue was kind enough not to say anything, and only to offer a tissue. The gesture only made them fall harder, and he was back in Blue’s arms, hoping Papyrus couldn’t hear them. 

It was nothing but shame that he could feel now, shame and the love of his family, but he’d get past the first part, eventually. Yeah, eventually, hopefully, by the stars he'd damn try.


	4. Hurting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a heavier one guys, so tread carefully!
> 
> (warnings for: suicide attempt (unsuccessful), suicide watch, angst, crying, depression, sad stuff guys)
> 
> enjoy :D

It was 3 in the morning when Papyrus got the call that Slim had tried once again to kill himself. Edge had been keeping watch, hadn’t slept longer than a few hours when he caught Slim at it, and had successfully stopped him. He’d taken him to the monster hospital nearby to be kept under suicide watch, Slim fighting him the whole way.

There had been a few monsters with LV working there that were qualified to handle Slim and get him admitted to a room, Edge given visiting rights as well as securing some for Stretch and Papyrus. They would have to come later that day to actually visit, but for then and there Edge had tried to get Stretch to speak with Slim on the phone.

Papyrus told him later that Stretch had bolted, nearly out the window before Papyrus was able to catch him.

Of course he came when it came time to visit, however, slinking along behind Papyrus as they walked up the path to the hospital doors.

“You know he’ll be happy to see you.” Papyrus said, belief in Stretch and Slim’s relationship remaining unshaken. Stretch shrugged. He wasn’t so convinced. 

The main issue was that they’d never talked about this shit, even when everyone around them made it obvious they should do so. Hell, Stretch had even told his therapist way, way back about Slim and how far they were progressing, and he’d recommended talking about the LV before actually moving in together. 

Stretch hadn’t listened. His arm ached with that knowledge, that he’d been warned and he’d been too stubborn, too prideful to listen. Now he and Slim were paying the heavy price, and it was no one’s fault but their own.

The thought of seeing Slim, strapped to a bed and helpless but still fighting his urges, ended up being too much, the moment Papyrus stepped through the doors giving Stretch time to shortcut out and away.

He hadn’t cared where he ended up, but he cared a little more when he splashed right into a pond on the far end of Ebott Park. The poor fish and turtles he frightened all swam away, Stretch huffing as he climbed out of the water onto the muddy banks, sitting in the muck as he let himself cry.

He cried for the innocence lost, for the loss of the trust he’d had with Slim. For the loss of safety he had always felt when held in Slim’s arms. 

He even cried for the loss of the relationship, though he wasn’t sure how shaky that was just yet. He’d have to have an actual, honest conversation with Slim first, and he didn’t even know if he could do that without the sound and feel of bone snapping worming into his head. 

It was a horrible, horrible thing, but Stretch wasn’t sure he could ever face Slim again. And it was completely his own fault. His fault, his fault… Always his fault. God, always his fault.

~.~

When Papyrus came into the hospital room, an apologetic look on his face, and most importantly alone, Slim felt like the biggest pile of scum on the face of the planet. He’d known it would be a longshot for Stretch to come and see him, especially after what he’d done. 

Some small part of him whispered that Stretch wished he was dead. That he’d been right to try and end it all.

The rest of him trusted Edge, and the Fellverse bull monster who had strapped him down and given him a mild sedative to help him calm down. They’d both told him that no matter what, he’d get through this. He believed them, he did. But he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the situation with Stretch. 

Edge had suggested talking to him on the phone, but had hung up himself with a pinched look on his face when he’d called Papyrus to make it happen. Then he’d said that Stretch and Papyrus were coming over to talk when visiting hours came around, but Papyrus had shown up alone, whispering something to Edge that had that pinched look returning. Edge had excused himself after that, and Papyrus had stayed, but neither of them said anything, not for the longest time.

“He still loves you, you know.” 

Slim looked up, so shocked that Paps had said anything to him at all that the words didn’t even compute for a few seconds. When they did, he was… less than believing. 

“I dunno about that.” 

Papyrus laughed, but the sound was humorless. “I know it. He doesn’t believe that you love him, not anymore, but the mad lad still loves you. He’s...scared.”

Slim felt something in his soul clench. “Of me?”

Papyrus shook his head. “Of the situation. He feels guilty, I think. Mostly because of a lot of reasons, but also because he knows how this is affecting you. It's driving him to a great deal of pain in his soul.”

Slim worried the ends of his blankets and sheets, looking anywhere but Paps searching,  _ knowing  _ eyes. 

“I still love him too, y’know?”

Papyrus nodded. “I know.”

That was it, until Edge returned some three hours later with supper and a large bottle of mountain dew. 

Slim tried not to cry as he thought about Stretch, sharing the meal with them. Of him complaining that Edge hadn’t gotten anything for dessert, of him teasing Slim for his choice of drink. 

He did not cry. Would not cry.

But if a few tears slipped loose, well, Edge and Papyrus were kind enough not to say anything about it.

When Papyrus left later that night, Edge sat with Slim, helping him by hooking up a game system to the small hospital TV and watching him play whatever struck Slim’s fancy. Really none of it did, but Slim was trying oh so hard to not think about the past.

His present wasn’t all that great either… he could only have hope for the future.


	5. I Still Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at that, i posted something XD
> 
> i went on break because of burn out, but stuff is piling up, so im getting back to it!!
> 
> enjoy :D mind the angst lol

“You know, its going to be murder getting that mud out of your clothes.”

Stretch looked up, a little shocked to hear Papyrus’ voice sound out from behind him, but there the lanky bastard was, looking tired as hell and like he was nursing a headache. He felt… well, even more guilty than he was already feeling, and turned his gaze back to the pond as tears began to stream down his face once more.

Papyrus sat heavily next to him, sighing as he stared at the dark pond, but as soon as Stretch hiccuped, curling into himself, he pulled him over, resting his head in his lap.

“Aww, Stretch, come on, it's okay to cry. Let it out.”

Stretch shook his head, but couldn’t open his mouth before another hiccup shook his frame. Papyrus gently scratched at his coronal suture, letting him breathe through the overwhelming sadness and guilt that wracked his mind. 

After a long stint of the two of them staring off into the darkness, Papyrus finally asked the major question that had been on Stretch’s mind ever since that night.

“Are you afraid of Slim? That he’ll do something like this again?”

Stretch sat up quickly, hands coming up as he waved off the very notion that he thought Slim was actually at fault for any of this whole fucked up situation. “No, no, I’m not scared of him… I’m…”

Papyrus waited patiently as he tried to find the right words to explain.

“I’m afraid of triggering him. Of setting off his LV by saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing… like that night.”

Papyrus nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that seems like quite the conundrum. The poor soul certainly has his own issues he needs to deal with, probably with a good deal of counseling!” Papyrus turned to Stretch, a sad smile on his face. “You do as well, I think.”

Stretch nodded, ashamed, but Papyrus left a brief peck of a kiss on his cheek. “None of that, you and he made a mistake, and something bad happened. Now you have the chance to make it better! Don’t you want to?”

“Of course, I want that more than anything, I just…” Stretch stopped, one hand on the opposite arm as he felt anxiety course through his soul. He couldn’t imagine talking to Slim again, let alone going and seeing him. It seemed like a horrible thing, being unable to even speak with his boyfriend, but that fear of saying the wrong thing was still there.

Papyrus was still looking at him, something old and shrewd in his eyes. “He still loves you.”

Stretch felt a small sob leave his throat. “I know. I love him too, so much, I don’t… I don’t want us to end...”

Soft grin on his face, Papyrus offered up his phone. “Then tell him.”

Stretch stared at the phone for a long minute, then took it with shaky hands and dialed Slim’s number. There were a few long rings, then the beep of an answering machine. Stretch debated whether or not to leave a message or try again, but…

“Slim… it's, it’s Stretch, I… I miss you? And I love you, and I don’t want this to ruin us, I don’t want to give up on you. I love you so fucking much, and I’m sorry I didn’t take this whole thing more seriously… I promise I’m gonna do better. Please take care of yourself. I love you. I’m sorry.”

He hung up, handing Papyrus the phone before he buried his face in his knees. Papyrus gently rubbed his back, and stared into the dark woods around them, waiting until they could go home.

~.~

Slim swallowed back a sob as he listened to the message again, and again, burning every “I love you” in his mind. He hadn’t answered when Stretch had called, mostly because he’d been asleep and had woken violently to the sound of his phone ringing. Edge had to help calm him down, at least to the point of finding out that Papyrus had called.

Edge had listened to the recorded message before letting Slim have the phone back, a weird look on his face that almost looked like a smile quirked down into a frown. It was a strange expression for a call from Papyrus, so Slim gave the message a listen.

Or three, or four, or ten, listening to it over and over until he could have said the entire thing by heart. It was heartrending, listening to the tears in his voice, listening to the sound of held back sobs as Stretch reassured him that they weren’t over, that they were going to try and work it out. That was all he wanted, really, wanted to do his very best to get his demons out of his head once and for all, and fuck if he didn’t want to do everything he could to keep Stretch close and safe. Even from himself.

“Are you going to keep listening to that all night?” Edge asked, and Slim could only hold his phone protectively close to his soul, a low growl kicking up in his chest as he dared Edge with his eyes to take it from him.

“Like I want to lose my hand. Do you want to watch some more Bake Off?” 

Slim nodded, and Edge turned to the TV, flipping through channels until it settled on the cooking show where contestants cried when their cookies came out salty. Slim could relate, he couldn’t bake to save his life.

Still… even as he grew sleepy, his eyes drooping as he listened to the message one last time… He felt like things might be looking skyward. Like he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, like the cloud of dark, heavy sadness that had been surrounding him was finally lifting a little, enough for him to make out the light of the souls around him that still cared, despite his inability to see how. 

He could only hope he didn’t fuck this up again. Stars knew there would be no second chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember these things:
> 
> \- Papyrus is very touchy-feely for me. He shows affection, even platonically, in a physical way  
\- LV is treated like PTSD. Slim is not an abuser


	6. Muffet's Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo next chapter!!! im sure that's getting old lol
> 
> tags: mention of violence, mention of an LV high, mention of broken bones, mentions of suicide
> 
> enjoy :D

Slim stayed in the hospital for a total of three weeks, during which time Edge lived in the room with him, bringing random snacks and movies for the two of them to watch. It was okay, other than the random bouts of overwhelming panic that had Slim tearing up and heaving for air. Edge was there through every one of them, as well as a nurse that was assigned to make sure he wasn’t pulling anything.

George was his name, from one of the Fellgrounds. He was a hulking bull, covered in scars with patches of hair missing, but he was one of the most gentle monsters Slim had ever met. George spent time with him, asked him basic questions about how he was feeling, and was the one that took his restraints off the day Slim thought he might go crazy with them on any longer.

It gave him hope, seeing George talking softly with Edge, discussing options for when he went home. Hope that Fellverse monsters could be better, that they really could acclimate to a more peaceful life. . Hope that maybe…

Maybe he could do right by Stretch.

Stretch himself had been staying with his brother, Blue retrieving him from Papyrus the day after he’d left the message. He’d been baking most of the time he was awake, rolling dough and twisting knots, working hard at nothing in particular in an effort to keep the whispers of blame out of his head.

He’d looked up therapists under Blue’s guidance, finding one a town over that had good reviews and hadn’t balked over the phone when he told her he was a monster. Blue had vouched for the company she worked for, which was enough for Stretch. 

Nothing in him wanted to go to therapy. He still felt like he was fine, but every time he tried to talk himself out of it, the sound and feeling of bone snapping, Slim’s snarling face angled to intimidate, his eyelights feral and lost… helped him remember that therapy was the least that they needed.

He was still kind of (very) anxious about the whole thing, but after a brief conversation with Blue about it all, he decided that when Slim was better, and if he decided he wanted to continue their relationship, they would  _ attempt  _ some kind of relationship counseling. It could only help their situation, and would prevent something like this from ever happening in the future.

Of course, the day that Papyrus called Blue and Stretch was mysteriously left alone in the house with barely a “Bye Papy!”, Stretch felt a bit suspicious about the whole thing. 

He only had to wait about an hour to figure out what the hell was going on, what with the sound of a car pulling into the driveway letting him know that visitors were afoot. He scrambled to his room, pulling on one of his clean hoodies and a pair of pants before the knock came, his breathing still a bit airy as he opened the door.

He very nearly slammed it shut again as a brief moment of panic overtook him, Slim standing there behind Papyrus and Edge, the saddest puppy dog look he’d ever had sitting on his face.

Stretch felt his soul melt at the look, and he moved to let the three of them in.

“So uh… how’s it been?” He asked as they all settled themselves on the couches, Papyrus and Slim on one and Edge waiting for Stretch on the other. Stretch sat down gratefully, but he didn’t miss the minor hurt in Slim’s eyes. 

“Well, for starters, Slim has been granted a clean bill of health! He’s passed all the exams, both physical and oral, and is no longer full suicidal!” Papyrus said, clearly pleased even as Slim hunched into himself and Edge winced.

Stretch was only concerned and more than a little shocked. “So… you’re… still suicidal??”

Slim winced, hands gently massaging his humeri, his eyelights small and pale. “Yeah..?”

Papyrus glanced between them, then huffed. “Alright Edge dear, its time for Plan C.”

Edge nodded as if that made any kind of sense, and before Stretch knew it he was being herded up and off the couch and to the front door, his shoes and coat shoved in place before he was suddenly outside.

He glanced back at the open door, Papyrus leaning out to give them both a wink and a fingergun, before it slammed shut on Slim’s shocked face.

Stretch stared hard for a long moment, before once again he was moved without conscious will down the sidewalk and into Edge’s car.

It was a delorean, sleek and a deep black with red racing lines. It was Edge’s pride and joy, his baby, and Stretch was more than shocked, he was very nearly appalled as Edge tossed him the keys.

“Come on, lets take this show on the road.” Edge said simply, again like this entire situation made any sense at all, but Stretch gave a philosophical shrug to the universe and climbed in.

“Mind telling me where we’re going, hotshot?” Stretch asked, still confused as hell but willing to play along for now. Edge just shrugged, phone angled away from where Stretch could see.

Rolling his eyes, Stretch glanced at the house one last time… and hoped that Slim was having a decent time with Papyrus.

They drove for a few hours, heading out of the city and toward the main monster village that still sat just outside of the borders of Mount Ebbott. Edge led the way with directions on his phone, the screen always angled so that Stretch never caught sight of the destination. 

It was driving him a little crazy, at least until he was directed to pull into town, driving along the small highway and to the parking lot of a place Stretch hadn’t been to in so fucking long.

“Muffet’s, huh?” He asked, mirth in his voice, and Edge grinned.

“Of course. Only the best.” And with that he hopped out of the car, leaving Stretch to sigh and climb out after him.


	7. Clouds in the Heavens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo next chapter!!! sorry for the wait, like always lol
> 
> enjoy!! mind the tags, theyre still in play!!

The moment that Stretch entered Muffet’s, it was like being transported to the long past, only this time when he walked through the door, the entire place went silent. He stopped, sockets wide as the entire room turned to stare at him, wondering if he had something on his face when one of the buns from his universe slowly got out of their chair, slinking toward him with an unreadable look on their face. 

He recognized them, of course he did. He had a Papyrus’ perk of knowing everyone in town without actually having the popularity of them knowing him back, and he cared about them, of course he did.

This particular bun… they’d lost their only remaining close relative at a young age. Bunamy and Bunaressa hadn’t been around at the time, in the Capital for whatever reason, and Stretch hadn’t really known at the time what to do so he’d brought them home. Their mother had dusted in front of them, but Blue knew exactly how to get the little one giggling and laughing after they’d gotten a full tummy.

He watched as they stopped just in front of him, staring up at him with increasingly wet looking eyes, and flinched as they threw their arms around him.

“You bastard, how dare you just disappear on us.” Bunnlo said, whispering it into his chest, and Stretch couldn’t help the tears that entered his own eyes, softly grinning as he lifted them up and moved past the staring crowd, settling into a seat at the bar. 

The life returned, everyone greeting him with a cheer and then moving on with their conversations, and for a moment, it was as if he’d never left Snowdin.

Stretch sat Bunnlo on the seat next to him, Edge settling in at his other side as they started talking about whatever came to mind. The little guy had grown a lot in the three or so years since they’d come to the Surface, Stretch remembering him just leaving stripes when they’d finally seen the sunlight. He was an adult now, pure and simple, but the kid still seemed to hold a special place for Stretch and Blue in his soul.

Edge waited patiently for Bunnlo to finally leave, a secret grin on his face that Stretch wasn’t going to call out. 

“Friend of yours?” He simply asked, airily, and Stretch gave him a look before finally turning his attention to Muffet... Who in hindsight looked absolutely pissed.

“Uh… Hey Muff. Long time no see?”

She huffed, squinting viciously at him, but handed over a bottle of his absolute favorite kind of honey whiskey. His hand shook a little as he took it, glancing up at Muffet who was grinning somewhat vindictively as he thanked her and took a long swig.

Edge and Muffet began talking in sign, having apparently met some time ago and become friends at some point. It made Stretch feel nice, knowing that two of his best friends were friends themselves.

Some might have thought it’d make him feel jealous, but he didn’t really get that. Who cared if people he cared about cared about each other? He loved it.

“Stretch?”

He looked up, finding both Muff and Edge staring at him with concern. He blinked, and only then realized that he’d started crying at some point, the tears silent. He wiped them away, smiling shakily, but Edge simply put an arm around him and asked Muffet for a plate of fries for them to share. She nodded, giving Stretch a parting glance before she was headed to the back.

“You know she puts sugar and cinnamon on the fries, right?” Stretch hiccupped, and Edge just shrugged.

“It’ll be a culinary experience then.”   
  
Stretch laughed quietly, the sound cracked.

“Am I broken?” He asked, near silent, and Edge immediately shook his head.

“Never.”

Thinking on that, Stretch took Edge’s hand. “I wanna see a fellverse therapist. Someone that can coach me through the whole… the whole LV thing. I want to try.”

Edge smiled bitterly. “You’re already trying. Just let him know that before he decides that you want nothing to do with him anymore, he’s already a complete pain to live with.” 

The last part was said completely in jest, Stretch laughing even as he wondered what Slim was doing back home.

The rest of the time spent at Muffet’s was in laughter and good food, Edge sharing a drink and the fries before he insisted it was time to leave. Stretch agreed, but not before he told everyone goodbye and promised to come back as soon as he was able. 

That was a promise he fully intended on keeping.

Edge was quiet as he started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and down the highway back to Ebbott, Stretch wondering what was going on in his head even as they pulled up to the same park that Papyrus had given him a hard talking to, shaking up his world perspective. He appreciated it now, but at the time his soul had been broken and his arm still stung. 

“You know, I once asked Papyrus to marry me.” 

Stretch looked up, surprised and quite frankly shocked, as Edge continued. 

“We decided, mutually, that we did better as a platonic couple. We’re soulmates, but not in a romantic sense. Neither of us needed it from each other.”

Stretch nodded, waiting as Edge seemed to gather his thoughts.

“You and Slim… you’re not like us. You need each other.” He looked at Stretch, something sad in his eyes. “Don’t fuck it up for you both.”

Something in Stretch’s soul ached at his words, but he nodded. 

Edge nodded in return, and the two of them sat, staring out into the pond, and waited for the sun to set.

When they headed home, Slim was already in bed in his guest room, Blue waiting to take Stretch home with him for the night. Papyrus gave him a hug, Edge setting a hand on his shoulder before Blue guided him down the walk to the little bug his brother owned and maintained.

They drove in silence for a few moments, before Blue finally piped up. “So how was your hang out with Edge?”

Stretch stared out the window at the stars, barely hidden behind the clouds. “It was pretty damn good.”


	8. The Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now we finally see why this fic is named the way it is lol
> 
> trigger warning for mention of self harm and suicidal thoughts in this chapter, its pretty tame tho
> 
> enjoy!!

Slim watched Papyrus, more than a little confused as the slightly taller began vigorously whipping egg whites. 

“Why’re we doin’ this again?” Slim asked, careful to not sound incredulous. Papyrus had said something about baking and Slim had mentioned that he had a tendency to burn water… which Papyrus took as an affront to his mental health. 

“I’m going to teach you how to make a cake! For your boyfriend! So you can tell him that you still love him, but without all the words that get choked up so easily.” And with that he went right back to whisking as fiercely as he was able, leaving Slim to wonder just how he was supposed to be helping. 

“And… I’m supposed to do…?”

Papyrus gave him a look, which, well. Maybe he deserved it. “You’re going to watch and learn! Cakes are not as easy as you might think, and they’re best served warm and swimming in homemade icing, melted to the top in gooey perfection.”

Slim was still confused, but he got the message, somewhat. Make a cake, make Stretch happy. Or at least, that was the plan, along with finally telling Stretch what he was feeling about this whole situation. 

It terrified him, not going to lie, but he was determined to ride that wave of anxiety and get through this… if only so he didn’t lose one of the best things in his life.

So Slim watched, took mental notes, and did his best to follow along as Papyrus made one hell of a chocolate cake.

It was a whole process, one that Slim was going to have a hell of a time replicating, but at the end Papyrus handed him a little index card with the recipe on it, a grim smile on his face.

“Lets change that flavor text, shall we?”

And with that he had turned back to the dishes, leaving Slim to wonder what he meant until he was home, looking in the mirror after a long, cold shower. He glanced down at the scars on his wrist, wincing at the reminder of that night, and finally gave himself a Check. 

_ Papyrus (Slim) _

_ *Wants to die _

It was… a bit of a wake up call. Just knowing that his very soul was feeling something so desperate made him realize just how far he’d fallen… and how long it’d take to claw his way back up.

Stretch would be at the top though. Waiting for him. Waiting for him to come home, for their movie nights with caramel corn and big Jones sodas. For walks under the moonlight, when neither of them could sleep. For carnivals and game arcades and even heading over to Muffet’s, if Slim could convince him to go. 

But first… he needed to work this shit out. He had to figure out how to start the long, painful crawl back to the top of the mountain of shit he’d made himself. 

Cracking a grin at himself that he saw more than felt, Slim slung a towel over his shoulder, heading out to his bedroom.

He had cakes to bake.

~.~

The first attempt was absolute trash. He’d nearly caught the apartment on fire, just trying to put the thing out.

He was sure he’d been careful to follow the instructions Papyrus had given him to the letter, but something had gone wrong between mixing the cake batter and putting it into the oven. Maybe putting the temperature on max had been a bad idea?

It had to have been that, seeing as how the “cake” was charred and burnt to a crisp, the fire that had started inside the oven searing the chocolate until it was inedible at the very best. He scrapped that one, obviously, and started on a new batter, hoping he figured this shit out before he ran out of ingredients. He didn’t get paid again until that weekend and what he had left was going towards other shit.

The second attempt went a little better. The outside looked done, a nice deep brown, but when he had taken it out to cool, sticking a knife in the top, it was so soft that the whole thing fell apart on his stovetop. 

More than a little aggravated and quickly running out of ingredients, Slim set up one last time. He carefully mixed and poured, sure to set the timer for exactly the amount of minutes that it said on the card. 

He stayed alert as it baked, checking it when the timer had gone off only to find that it was still gooey in the middle. Glancing back at the card, he decided to cook it another 5 minutes and then see where it was at that point. 

Once the 5 minutes was up he checked it again, this time the knife coming out clean. He carefully took it out of the oven, wincing a little at the crispy patches on top of the cake, but he could easily cover those up with the buttercream icing he’d bought. 

He took a metal spatula, careful with the edges and began to scoop out the icing, eating only a little bit of it before he carefully smoothed it over the cake, the bits of crumbled up goodness only making the icing look speckled, which was pretty cool. 

Once he was done he carefully set the cake in the fridge, shut the door, and slid to the floor, exhausted. Making cakes was so much more energy intensive than he thought it’d be. But now it was done, set in the fridge, and he was going to give it to Stretch, they’d explain their feelings to each other, and Slim would probably cry. That was okay though, Stretch deserved to see him cry at least once.

It was hard, getting back up to clean up the massive mess he’d made, but he didn’t want Stretch coming back to a dirty house. The dishes were washed, dried and put away, the soot and crumbs washed from the counter and swept off the floor. He tried to throw away the first two cakes, but there really wasn’t much wrong with the second one other than the squishiness, and the first one wasn’t so bad if you cut around the burnt parts.

And maybe… he couldn’t bear to throw them out, the history he had with food. It was his first attempts at making something that would make Stretch happy… of course he couldn’t just throw them out.

Finally cleaned up and exhausted, he headed to bed, ready to call it a night. Tomorrow… tomorrow he’d tell Stretch everything. 

And they’d get some damn therapy together. That was a promise.


End file.
